


Masterpiece

by InsightfulInsomniac



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: After school mischief, Alternate Universe - High School, M/M, Painting, Smut, They are of age don't worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2017-05-09
Packaged: 2018-10-29 18:42:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10859823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsightfulInsomniac/pseuds/InsightfulInsomniac
Summary: "You know, you should really let me paint you," Lieb husks, slowly pushing Web back against the wall. "Have you strip down and pose, but I won't let anyone see the painting — it's just for me."******Web and Lieb in the art room at school after hours.





	Masterpiece

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is based off of an "imagine your OTP" prompt about sexy times with paint. Also, they are in high school, but they are 18. Total smutty trash.
> 
> Oh, and it's still May 8th where I am, so happy V-E Day!

David glances up at the clock on the wall, shutting his laptop as soon as he realizes the time. It's three minutes past four, so he bids a quick goodbye to the newspaper advisor, Ms. Plinth, before hurrying or the door and up the nearby staircase to the art hallway, just as he does every Tuesday afternoon.

The halls are quiet and devoid of students, school having let out over an hour ago. Web likes it best this way, empty and free to breathe. Inspiration does not come easily to a writer amidst the excessive PDA of the hallways and the flying carrot sticks of the cafeteria.

It's hypocritical, he knows, considering he's approaching the room in which his own partner-in-PDA resides, the two of them once being major offenders of the no-sucking-face-between-classes rule. But that was freshman (and sophomore) year, and here they are as seniors, just one month from graduation.

Like he does every week, Web sets his backpack down on one of the large art tables, wandering to the back of the large warehouse-like classroom to the separate studio David knows is reserved only for Mr. Keyes' favorite students — more specifically, Joe Liebgott.

Leaning in the doorway of the studio, Webster takes a minute to just watch Joe at work — he's on the floor, leaning over a gigantic painting with a brush in his teeth and a pen behind his ear. He's got a palette full of colorful paint next to him, and he nonchalantly wipes his hands on his already paint-stained jeans every once in a while.

It's just a minute before he looks up with a slight smirk. "Enjoying the view?"

Web's got to admit, he is. With the sleeves of his loose-fitting t-shirt pushed up onto his shoulders and his tousled hair, Lieb looks downright enticing. Flushing slightly, David laughs, biting his lip as he nods. "I like watching you paint. You're so focused."

Liebgott sighs with a small smile, again wiping the paint on his hands off onto his jeans as he stands up. "This is the rough design for the mural outside the auditorium. What d'ya think?"

Webster gives it a long once-over. "It's brilliant. Reminds me of you, to be honest."

Lieb chuckles. "Funny, because it reminds me of you. Bright, creative, and downright confusing."

Web scoffs, but is unable to hold back a grin. "Beautifully chaotic, abstract, and colorful. I like the eye right there," he notes, pointing to a photo-realistic blue-green eye almost hidden behind a painted window. "Deep meaning."

"It's your eye."

David looks at him confusedly. "What?"

Joe takes a heated step closer to him, never breaking eye contact. "I've studied your goddamn hypnotizing eyes long enough to know they should be in a mural."

Web's breath hitches at his tone. "Joe..."

"You know, you should really let me paint you," Lieb husks, slowly pushing Web back against the wall. "Have you strip down and pose, but I won't let anyone see the painting — it's just for me."

" _Liebling_ , not here," David breathes, weakly attempting to push Joe off of him. The smaller man just smirks dangerously, trailing a paint-stained finger down his jawline, leaving a line of blue stretching across Web's face.

"You're a piece of art," Lieb murmurs, unbuttoning David's shirt with his other hand, forever amused at his boyfriend's habit of wearing button-downs year-round. Not that he minds, though, because in the warmer months, Web rolls his sleeves up just above his elbows, something Joe finds inexplicably hot.

The hand that was tracing Webster's jaw moves to lightly grip the back of his neck, likely leaving a colorful handprint on his skin. Lieb lets his other hand coast down David's torso, staining his porcelain skin with reds and yellows.

"Joe, you're going to ruin my clothes," Web protests, but Liebgott cuts him off with a searing kiss.

"I'll buy you new ones," he replies lowly, already throwing Webster's belt to the floor.

"Where's Mr. Keyes?" Web asks breathlessly, tangling his fingers in Lieb's hair.

"Left early to pick up his daughter. Told me I could lock up."

A moan escapes David's lips as Joe sucks at a spot on his collarbone, deftly undoing the button on his jeans and snaking his hand into his pants.

"You'd better not get paint on my dick."

Joe grins against his neck. "Can't promise anything, sweetheart."

Web's about to snark something back about the paints being toxic and that they shouldn't be ingested when Joe swallows his words with a passionate kiss.

Lieb's hands make quick work of his own pants, pushing them down along with his boxers to pool at his ankles. He does the same to David's, colliding their bodies together again.

"You're coming home with me today," Joe grunts as he takes them both into his hand, earning a low moan from his boyfriend. "We're gonna do this properly."

"Why not now?" Web replies darkly, his breath hot on Lieb's ear. "Have me here, right now, against the wall."

" _Fuck_ ," Joe seethes through his teeth, squeezing the hand wrapped around them. "Fuck it, we're gettin' a goddamn hotel room and skipping school."

"I have a calculus test tomorrow," David counters feebly, raking his nails down Joe's back.

"I'll help you study before you make it up," Lieb offers, and Webster groans lowly at his tone, strip-studying not at all unfamiliar to the two of them. "Besides, you know what tomorrow is?"

David's breath is coming in short pants, but he manages to choke out a breathy "What?"

Joe smirks devilishly. "Senior skip day."

It's then when Web shudders and finishes with a gasp, his eyes glazing over at the thought of having an entire day of getting Joe all to himself, an entire day of being able to stay in bed and, as he had previously suggested, do things _properly_.

Lieb follows Web shortly, spilling over his own hand without taking his eyes off of his euphoric boyfriend's ecstasy-ridden face. Hiking up his jeans, Joe finds a clean rag and wets it at the sink, cleaning himself off before making his way back to David.

"I am covered in paint."

Sure enough, there are handprints in all colors of the rainbow littered across Web's body and clothes, a testament to Lieb's wandering hands and the frenzied bout of passion that just occurred.

"You look so goddamn sexy; come here," Joe commands, reaching up to the large green handprint imprinted on the back of his boyfriend's neck. David jumps slightly at the feel of soft bristles and cool paint on his skin, but doesn't pull away.

"What did you just do?" He asks curiously, craning his neck in the mirror above the sink to try and see. "Did you just... sign your name?"

Lieb's eyes are dark, and it's obvious that he has no intention of letting Web out of his sight any time soon. "Every artist has to sign his masterpiece."

David shivers; Joe's possessiveness has always been an annoyingly powerful turn-on for him. Nonetheless, he cocks his head, eyeing the pen still tucked behind Joe's ear.

"I'm yours and you're mine. Let me sign you, too."

"Alright, writer boy. We are not leaving the hotel room at all tomorrow," Joe replies firmly, allowing him to scrawl his signature across the back of his neck.

Web tucks the pen back behind Lieb's ear as Joe buttons up his shirt, grabbing David's wrists when he goes to tuck it in.

"Leave it. It's coming off soon anyway."

He does as Lieb asks, but still wipes off the blue paint from his face. "So, is this hotel room already booked?"

Joe grins. "Hell yeah. Your stuff's in my car and your parents think you have an overnight writer's guild field trip."

"Perfect. Let's get out of here."

**Author's Note:**

> I kind of want to do a senior skip day fic (I don't know if it would follow Web and Lieb's adventures or not, but the boys could all get up to some crazy shenanigans).


End file.
